


Baking in Space

by tnlph



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Baking, F/M, baking in space, space
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-29
Updated: 2016-04-29
Packaged: 2018-06-05 05:32:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6691609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tnlph/pseuds/tnlph
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Born from a tumblr post where someone said they could read an AU about these two baking in space if they were in character, I give you Baking in Space.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Baking in Space

Disclaimer - I know nothing about the Mars program, Space, Baking, or pretty much anything else discussed below. Suspend disbelief and just enjoy, please?

* * *

Days and nights flowed together. There was no concept of the passing of time.

Everything was boring

It's not exactly the life she'd imagined when she signed up for the Mars program. But what did she have to leave behind besides the slowly dying Japanese Peace Lily her landlord had insisted on gifting her when she moved in.

But for the first time in her life, amongst a group of people who all felt as though Earth held nothing more for them, Emma felt like she was home. They were a motley group of misfits, some running for various and sundry reasons, some with lofty visions of helping to build a better life for future generations. Emma Swan definitely fell into the former category. No job hassles. No worrying over the next paycheck. No wondering if every young boy she saw was the right age to be her child.

No, here everything was set. You had your work duties, and the rest of your time was your own. And the kindred spirits aboard the vessel currently careening through space were cut from the same cloth. The "keep to yourself and we're all going to get along just fine" cloth.

* * *

She'd made friends, David Nolan her bunk mate for starters. You couldn't share a cube that small with someone and not learn a thing or two. And with Nolan, everything she learned made her know she liked the guy. He was solid. Completely dependable, smart, charming, and funny. Everything she could want in a man… as a brother. She'd rolled her eyes at the hooting and hollering that had come from some of their shipmates when each of the male/female cabin assignments were called, questioning the mental ages of the people she'd committed the rest of her life to.

It was for Nolan that she'd snuck into the kitchen well past operating hours. Lucas, who ran the operation with military precision, would most likely kill her in the morning, but this would be worth it. It took no time to find everything she needed, but before she could actually start, she was interrupted.

"Well, what do we have here? You're braver than I even thought. Lucas will have your head for this in the morning. I won't be able to stop her, Emma."

She looked up, and saw him standing in the doorway, leaning up against it as though he didn't have a care in the world. But she knew something was up. There was no reason for him to be in the kitchen either.

"Captain Jones." She nodded, showing the respect that all aboard the vessel tended to give him, even though as civilians they weren't technically required. Captain Jones wasn't just one of the astronauts on board, he was THE astronaut. This was his mission. This was his ship. And while the civilians didn't answer to him, they knew who was in charge.

He sauntered into the kitchen, finally settling behind her, assessing the counter over her shoulder. She wanted to mind how close he was standing, but couldn't.

"What's this, Emma? Flour, eggs, cocoa, sugar. Why does it look like you're making a cake?"

Trying not to let him know how his presence was affecting her, she shrugged out from between him and the counter, desperate to retrieve anything from the refrigerator. "It is a cake. It's Nolan's birthday tomorrow, and I thought I'd surprise him."

He smiled. Of all the non-military people on the ship, he'd developed a close friendship with the man. By no means would he get in her way if the trespass was for his friend. "Shouldn't this be Blanchard's job? I shouldn't say anything, but from what I hear, those two have become quite close."

She couldn't help but groan.

"Believe me, if you had to share a bunk with Nolan you'd know just how close they've become."

He laughed, but approached her again, this time standing just far enough away that she wanted him to move closer. Until she heard his reply.

"You know, Emma, as captain of this ship one of the perks is a private berth. You're quite welcome to share it with me."

It was her turn to laugh, again moving away, this time to stop herself from moving forward. "You'd like that wouldn't you?" She asked as she got to work, mixing the ingredients together, hoping he didn't catch the blush that rose on her face.

"Perhaps I would." She couldn't see his face as he said it, but she heard his sincerity. This wasn't mere flirting. He was exposing a true wish. One that scared her.

Everything she'd learned about their captain over the past months of their voyage intrigued her. He was more than a man doing it for country and for glory. He was running as much as the rest of them. Earth was no longer home and he had nothing to lose. There was a story there, and she wanted to know more.

But she also knew that it would only lead to trouble. There was nowhere to run when it all inevitably went wrong. These were the people she'd committed to spending the rest of her life with and she had no desire for endless years of unavoidable awkward mornings after.

Rather than continue his topic of conversation, she turned the tables on him. "And what's made you risk Lucas' wrath? Or are you exempt, Captain Jones?"

"You know, you don't need to call me Captain Jones, Emma."

"And what should I call you, Jones?"

"Killian will do."

He'd lowered his voice again, but wasn't addressing her directly. On his hands and knees he was fiddling with a loose panel of the cabinetry and she was taken aback when he popped it off with a loud "ah! There it is."

She'd given up working on the cake for a moment, fully invested in what had the ship's captain crawling around on the floor dismantling the millwork. When his arm reached into the recess, and came back out with a bottle of rum, all of her questions were answered. Beer, fine. Wine, fine. Champagne, no unfortunately due to the cork. But the line had been drawn at hard alcohol, having deemed it dangerous incase anyone were to get inebriated. Apparently the captain had other ideas.

"I didn't figure you for a smuggler, Captain. Do you plan on opening the first bar on Mars, or is this for your own personal consumption?"

"This is for my own personal consumption, although if you're nice to me I'll share." The swagger had returned, and he stood with the cabinet open, eyebrow raised in question, silently asking if he should be retrieving one glass or two. "And I told you, it's Killian."

She nodded, and he pulled the second glass down, pouring them both a healthy measure. Between her time on board, and their training time, it had been years since Emma had any hard liquor, and the burn caused her to choke a bit after her first sip, but she immediately followed it up with another, and another. She'd forgotten the feeling of alcohol coursing through your veins, and with her non-existent tolerance, she could feel the weight of every burden she had too much time to think about lifting away.

"Careful there, Emma. You're not used to this." He lifted her glass out of her hand and pointed to the ingredients on the counter. "Let's get down to this cake, and then you can have more once it's in the oven, deal?"

"Aye, aye, Capta… Killian." She was slightly embarrassed. There was no way the rum should have hit her that fast, but space had a way of playing tricks on your body, and your brain. At least that's what she was going to tell herself.

She knew her way around Lucas' kitchen. Most were assigned regular kitchen shifts, and it was one of the tasks she found most pleasurable. She'd never known anything about cooking before this, and now she could help feed a surprising number of people, cook up single meals, and… if all went well, bake a cake. She'd found the recipe in a book of Lucas' earlier in the week, everything supposedly adjusted to what would be required for baking in space. But Lucas had quickly found out that NASA was much more skilled at making rockets and flight suits than they were at figuring out how to re-hydrate beef and make it tasty. Luckily Lucas, the oldest of the passengers, had run a restaurant for years prior to their mission, and quickly fixed all of NASA's errors.

She didn't know if it was the alcohol, she wanted it to be the alcohol, but working in tandem with Jones in the kitchen was natural. He was a step ahead of her every time she needed something, and was quite eager to assist in any task she could give him.

The heat she felt radiating off of his body every time he passed near her, well that was definitely the alcohol. It had to be. _It's just the rum_ she told herself. Her brain and the rum were having conversations she definitely couldn't keep up with. So when he sidled up next to her as she closed the oven door, ready to return the tumbler he'd confiscated earlier, she questioned whether she should take it. Accepting it would mean quieting the part of her brain telling her to keep him at arm's length. That it wouldn't be worth it. That he couldn't be worth it.

But she took the glass, and stood silently in front of him, almost as though she were challenging him. She wanted to know what his next move would be.

"Frosting."

"What?" Her brain had been so busy trying to decide whether or not she'd accept his advances, she wasn't prepared for them not to come.

"Frosting. What do we do for that? I'm sure you make a delicious cake, Emma, but it will need frosting."

She tried to return to a normal train of thought, and finally took a sip of the rum and started preparing the sugar and butter. Her mind was racing again, and she was glad for the task to serve as a distraction. It allowed her to concentrate on anything but him. She was confused with what to do. Months of flirtation, and the night she finally decides she'd take him up on the next innuendo or suggestion, he stops? She had decided she could blame it all on the rum. Tell him it was a mistake, and it won't happen again. That he's the captain and she's just a passenger. They need to keep the relationship professional. And now, she thought, all of the sudden he's Betty fucking Crocker concerned with the frosting for his friend's cake.

Just because he wouldn't do it didn't mean she couldn't.

She finished the frosting and turned towards him, her body completely challenging him. "Want to taste?"

He raised an eyebrow, just like she knew he would, and nodded. She raised her eyebrows in return, and didn't even look away as she dipped her finger into the bowl, coming away with a large dollop of frosting. She raised the digit in front of her, and he never broke eye contact as he leaned over and licked his lips before circling them around it. She closed her eyes and moaned as he sucked the sugary cream from her finger, just as he moaned at the taste of both her, and the chocolate. She felt his tongue sweep her skin as he released it with a pop, and she opened her eyes and let out a deep sigh.

"Good?"

He nodded. "You should try for yourself." He went to reach his own finger into the bowl, but before he could she grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him towards her, pressing her lips to his, tongue sweeping across his mouth, requesting access he happily granted. He tasted of chocolate and rum, and Emma would never be able to get enough. He quickly lifted her to the counter, trailing kisses along her neck, as she ran her hands through his hair and explored the shell of his ear. Time became meaningless as the two relished each other's touch.

It wasn't until the timer went off on the oven that either even attempted to pull away. Emma was nearly dizzy, drunk off of his kisses more than any affect the rum could have had. He had to help her down from the counter, and she walked more than a little unsteady to the oven to remove the cake. She looked, and it was perfect. Golden brown, and as she sunk the toothpick in and it came up clean. She turned around with the cake in hand, smile wide, kisses temporarily forgotten.

"Killian! It worked."

"What worked, Emma?"

"The cake, it's perfect."

"Why wouldn't it be?"

"Because I've never made a cake. All the recipes have to be toyed with to get them to work. Lucas wasn't here to watch over me and tell me what to do. This whole thing was a gamble."

His smile grew as wide as hers as he listened. "I've yet to see you fail at anything, Emma. A cake definitely wouldn't be what stopped you." She placed the pan on the counter, and stood proud with her hands on her hips. The smile, both at the cake, at the support from the man in front of her, and just a little from the rum, still evident.

He took advantage of her open posture, and gathered her up in his arms. "Now, Emma. I do believe we have to wait for that cake to cool before we can frost it. May I suggest some pleasurable activities?" She couldn't help but burst out laughing. The innuendo was back.

He released her, and took a step away. Laughter wasn't what he expected after the way she'd kissed him. But she stopped him, pulling him back towards her. "Get back here, Captain."

"It's Captain again, is it? Just a moment ago I remember hearing Killian cross your lips, and quite enjoyed the manner in which it was being said."

Before they could continue the door to the kitchen flung open, and they were joined by Blanchard and Nolan. Both were obviously embarrassed to be caught together so late at night.

"Captain. Swan. Sorry to interrupt…" Nolan looked back and forth at the two of them, in each other's arms and put together the pieces quickly. "Whatever this is."

Emma and Killian both tried to back away from each other, but as soon as Emma took one look at Killian's wild hair she knew there would be no hiding, not really, what they'd been up to.

They both started to stammer, Killian finding it awkward to be explaining himself to someone else for a change, but Nolan stopped him. "I didn't say I wanted to know."

Blanchard stood at his side, radiantly beaming. Killian couldn't help but question her.

"Blanchard. What's so amusing?"

She didn't even miss a beat before replying. "Well, you and Swan, Captain Jones. This makes me happy."

Emma rolled her eyes, and walked over to shoo them from the room. She didn't want Nolan to see the cake, but also did not want to discuss this any further. "It's a one time thing Blanchard. It's not like this means anything. Now go. I was trying to give you guys privacy and you come invade my hiding space? I'm going to have to come back in to sleep eventually, and I'd prefer for you guys to be asleep when I get there, please."

Nolan happily retreated from the room, but Blanchard wasn't giving up as Emma pushed them through the doorway. "But Swan, he's got a private room. Just think of how well this could work out for all of us." Emma didn't dignify that with a response as she closed the door behind them.

The first thing she noticed when she turned around was the crestfallen look on Killian's face.

"What's wrong, Killian?"

"A one time thing?"

She studied him and realized he was truly upset. She didn't know if she meant it when she said it, but now, seeing his disappointment at the idea that this was over as soon as it had begun, she couldn't let go.

She smiled and plunged her finger back into the bowl of frosting and held it up in front of him again. As he leaned down and licked the frosting from her skin, she leaned into his shoulder and whispered in his ear, "definitely not a one time thing."

* * *

The next afternoon, after lunch was served and cleaned, and only a few of their friends remained in the dining room, Emma emerged from the kitchen with the cake. It was candle-less unfortunately, due to rules none of them could break, but they all encouraged Nolan to make a wish anyway. In the oddest of celebrations, they sang, he blew on his cake, and they all clapped. Blanchard piped up first, asking what his wish was.

"I already have it," he said, grasping her hand and leaning over to kiss her. The room groaned at their display of affection.

As the cake was served, and they all chatted, he pulled Jones aside.

"Captain, speaking as Emma's friend, don't screw this up." Killian nodded, as he was sure to add more. "Because it was really nice having the bunk to myself last night."

He burst out laughing and slapped his friend on the back. "Consider it my birthday gift to you, mate."


End file.
